


Mercenary, Retainer, Demon & Professor

by FanFiction_Artist_Prototype



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Almyra (Fire Emblem), Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Assassination Attempt(s), Assassination Plot(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Claude von Riegan is a Little Shit, Female My Unit | Byleth, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Marriage Proposal, Mentioned Glenn Fraldarius, Mercenaries, Military Training, My Unit | Byleth Has Emotions, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Poisoning, Royalty, Siblings, Wyverns, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23750815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFiction_Artist_Prototype/pseuds/FanFiction_Artist_Prototype
Summary: "Fear the prince's demon girly, rumour says they're never seen without the blood of their enemies on their blade."Byleth nodded at the merchant, interest piqued for the time being, "How much for the whetstone?""Two silver pieces, a discount for a fellow Fodlani. I've got to ask though, what's a girly like you doing with a whetstone?""If rumours like the one you say are true it seems I'll have to clean my blade more than usual." There was a strange satisfaction to the way the merchant paled.--OR:The Ashen Demon was feared throughout Fodlan for the bodies left in their wake, but the true horror they caused stemmed from their prior position as the retainer of the crown Prince of Almyra.
Relationships: Glenn Fraldarius & My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 119





	Mercenary, Retainer, Demon & Professor

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A boar's liege](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20693834) by [Blaiddyd_Queso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaiddyd_Queso/pseuds/Blaiddyd_Queso). 
  * Inspired by [A Million Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669879) by [doylesmom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doylesmom/pseuds/doylesmom). 
  * Inspired by [Blue Eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20946650) by [WonderingHero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderingHero/pseuds/WonderingHero). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ages:  
> Byleth = 11  
> Glenn = 11  
> Miklan = 13  
> Felix = 6  
> Sylvain = 8

**Year 1170, Horsebow Moon**

**Fraldarius territory, Faerghus**

At the age of eleven Byleth knows only a few things; she knows how to wield a sword and a bow, how to read and write the Fodlan common, she knows how to swear in both Almyran and Nohrian and she likes to believe she's well versed in the art of reading body language.

Glenn Fraldarius at the age of eleven knows much, much more than her and doesn't seem to understand why that is.

It's actually quite amusing seeing the noble boy trip over his own nobility without realising. What's less amusing is the lordling to be hounding her for gaps in her knowledge.

So what if she doesn't know how to hold cutlery 'correctly' or how to sing Serois hymns without looking at the words? How were those types of things supposed to help her as a mercenary? Especially the hymns when her father had expressly denied her entering any kind of church establishment since the first time she asked a few years ago.

For all his noble upbringing the Fraldarius lordling didn't act snooty about her lack of knowledge, it was more a genuine confusion due to having just assumed everyone learned the same things he did, though this particular gap in her knowledge was rather aggravating.

"What do you mean you don't know how to hold a baby properly? You're a girl!"

"What does me being a girl have to do with anything?" Her monotonous tone seemed to only further frustrate the boy and he adjusted his baby cousin in his arms again.

"All the maids know how to! And they're girls, so I assumed all girls knew how!" At the small whine the baby made at the loud noise around him Glenn lowered the volume of his voice, "It just doesn't make sense. Mother said she people just _know_ when I asked her how she knew."

Byleth had never spent much time around babies, aside from when Lee had visited them after they'd stopped through the village they'd left her in when she'd been having her baby. Calla had cried constantly and fused if she wasn't in her mother's arms which meant Byleth had never had the opportunity to hold her. Not to mention the baby had started to grow agitated whenever they caught sight of her blank face.

Her father had said her lack of emoting made some of the newer members of the company uncomfortable once, after she'd asked why they were ignoring her while everybody else acted as normal, and had put two and two together and figured that the baby was as equal unnerved.

"The maids will of been trained how to look after babies, they might even have their own children," she could see she was on the way to convincing the boy as he nodded along, "And mother's are different, the baby comes out of them so it makes sense they know."

That last piece of evidence seemed to make the boy pause as his face twisted once more in confusion, "That makes no sense, the baby doesn't come out of the mother, a Goddess hawk brings the baby from the heavens after the mother carries a great weight for a few moons."

"Glenn, do you not know what sex is?"

-*-

It turned out that she wasn't supposed to tell the Fraldarius heir about sex, which she gathered from the way her father went red in the face spilling apology after apology out to Lord Rodrigue while said man couldn't stop laughing.

"Lord Rodrigue I am so sorry, I take full responsibility-"

"It's quite alright friend!" The lord seemed quite unlike a Lord as Byleth watched him snort and try to temper his outrageous laughter, "It would have come up eventually, I suppose that is one less thing to teach my son."

Next to her Glenn squared his shoulders and tried to hide the crease between his eyes with an exaggerated smile. Despite being not particularly emotive herself Byleth found she was good at telling others emotions from their body language and the eldest Fraldarius heir was incredibly uncomfortable.

Something ached in her chest when she came to the conclusion that it was her fault for having brought up the issue of misinformation. Perhaps it would have been better to leave the boy in the dark until his father taught him the correct information.

Glenn seemed embarrassed that he'd been wrong, especially as it had to do with the Goddess, which they'd already found he was much more knowledgeable about.

Byleth found her knowledge of the church of Serois compromised of the name, the fact it was all over Fodlan and that Serois wasn't the Goddess but the founder and little else. Where as Glenn as a member of the Faerghus nobility was supposed to be a paragon of church knowledge.

The lordling had been so proud when he'd rambled on and on about the church when she'd admitted to not knowing much about it beyond the name and its monotheism nature. It had been admittedly fun as well to watch someone excitedly go on about something that wasn't a weapon technique or their latest grievance with a noble.

Some of the company had been quite open about their resistance to her spending time with the Fraldarius heir whilst they spent the day and sometimes nights out in the territory dealing with the sudden influx of bandits of Gautier territory. 

Their worries had laid with the current issue, that an upbringing difference would lead to an argument or disagreement between herself and Glenn. If Byleth had heard any of her Father's company gripe about letting 'grubby little noble boys near our Byleth when you won't let her have even her training sword captain what are you thinking!?' then it was neither here nor there.

No one needed to know she knew and appreciated how much they cared, when they were often too stunted themselves to tell her face to face.

It didn't mean however, that she would allow the boy to stew in his own mind, pretending that his father wasn't making him feel mocked because of his laughter.

"Lord Rodrigue," the Lord's laughter stopped immediately as it was the first time she had ever addressed him with words, "May Glenn and I be excused? We agreed to practice with lances after dinner."

Neither of them had ever even suggested training with lances, but she remembered the boy saying that a fellow noble boy not much older than themselves used one and insisted that Glenn fight him with one. Hence Glenn mentioning his need to enhance his lance capabilities.

Apparently it was a skill required of a Paladin. 

Byleth hadn't known that, and it had been another nagging moment from the Fraldarius heir as he pointed out her own father was a Paladin;a fact that had escaped her notice till it had been pointed out.

"I don't see why not. You are dismissed children." With a quick wave of the hand the two of them were out of their seats and heading down the hall in the opposite direction of the training hall.

Once they were far enough away from the dining hall that neither of their father's could have a chance of eavesdropping she spoke once more, "I apologize. I shouldn't of brought that up."

The boy didn't look at her, body language betraying him and telling her how embarrassed and upset he truly felt, "It's fine."

"It isn't." They stopped and it agitated her to no end that no matter how hard she tried she couldn't convey the unknown feelings in her words, "I was unaware that your father would react that way he did, if I had known I wouldn't have said anything."

"There was nothing wrong with the way my father reacted." That got a reaction out of the boy and, as was evident from his expression, his words must have sounded half hearted even to himself, "I was childish enough to believe something as stupid as a bird bringing a baby from the heavens. Don't apologize when you don't have to."

"Still. I apologise, if I had known he'd laugh at you I wouldn't have said anything."

"And I said there was nothing wrong with my father's reaction!" Seconds after the boy shouted she watched with a blank expression as Glenn tried to real in his temper, "I- ah I didn't mean to shout!"

"It's fine."

"It isn't! I shouldn't have lost my temper- father is _always telling me_ -"

"Glenn you're allowed to be angry." It sounded so false in her monotonous tone, "My Pa says you should express when things make you upset."

"I'm not upset! I shouldn't lose my temper it's unsightly! How am I supposed to be the shield of Faerghus when I don't even know where babies come from!?"

Maybe it was due to her lack of an ability to express and properly understand emotions, but Byleth failed to see how those two were connected. Her Father was renowned for his fighting abilities but the company wouldn't have survived without his advice as well - she couldn't understand why the noble boy refused to accept that it was okay to express.

After all he'd been trying to get her to do the same. It was rather hypocritical of him.

Grabbing his wrist she turned on her heel and went in the actual direction of the training hall this time, Glenn too flabbergasted to properly fight out of her hold while he sputtered out indignant refusals. They were both aware that if Glenn were to activate his crest (not that she knew what that was, just that it looked like the 'tattoo' on the back of her father's neck but slightly different) he'd have more than enough strength to get her to let him go.

Perhaps that was why she squeezed his wrist slightly when his grumbling simmered out. Nobody outside the company trusted her, and here this noble boy was.

They couldn't have known each other for more than two weeks now, and even if they were in his own home it didn't change the fact he was allowing himself to be dragged about for anyone to see.

She'd have to ask what this warm feeling was later, her father seemed to understand when she described emotions in abstracts. Which often lead her to wonder if he himself had once had great difficulty producing emotive tones and showing anything but a disinterested look.

Finally reaching the training hall she released the boys wrist and walked over to the weapons rack that had been left out, most likely in case Lord Rodrigue and his son wanted to spar after his return from Gautier territory.

The training lance felt odd in her hands, and despite it being weighted properly she couldn't help but feel off balance. That was the issue with learning new weaponry, now she needed to learn her centre of balance all over again. A tedious task, but one she put up with because swordsmanship may have been her most favourite pastime but learning how to fight and survive better was just enjoyable.

Plus, if anything could give her the extra edge she needed to keep her father on his toes whilst they trained then she would take it.

"Fraldadius, catch." She tosses the lance his way and he fumbles, hands catching it but still falling partially with it. It should be humorous to watch, but it just feels upsetting.

For someone claiming they believe previous actions were justified Glenn is acting exactly how she believes he should be reacting - upset.

-*-

Neither of them could fight with a lance properly, both of them were far too short to be using them and so their swings always dragged their bodies with the force and on more than one occasion they'd toppled each other over in a clambering heap of stupidity.

And despite the constant failure on both their parts the boy across from her seemed to be letting go of his frustration, pushing it into every swing rather than letting it sit inside him and eat away at him.

Byleth was glad that in Faerghus they ate early, because if dinner had been any later they'd have been working till well into the night.

Instead they only sparred until the servants had to light the torches in the training hall, a chiding remark from Glenn's governess reminding them that they both had a curfew to adhere to. It was a frustrating reminder, especially as she had just been getting to grips with using the lance.

Either that or Glenn was progressively getting worse through their fight. But that didn't particularly make much sense as the boy had been training with the weapon for at least a few weeks.

"I don't get..." they deposited their lance's back on the rack both out of breath, "How Miklan uses a lance...so easily."

"Gautier fighting style primarily focuses on the lance."

The fact slipped from her easily, just one of hundreds of things she'd learnt from books when there was nothing else to do in the Fraldarius castle.

While she was considered privileged enough to spend time with the heir and eat with her father as he dined with the current Lord she wasn't considered privileged enough to join Glenn in his lessons and often found herself isolated in the library for hours on end.

Felix, Glenn's younger brother, being away in Galatea territory currently meant she couldn't even become acquainted with the younger heir and so she was left with her only option being self study.

When she wasn't improving her skills with the training mannequin that was.

She wouldn't waste the opportunity to use quality training gear, due to the nomadic nature of the mercenary lifestyle the company didn't have the liberties of having an actual training mannequin, and so training was used with training weapons against living opponents.

"But still-"

"The Fraldarius style is based around swords, moving swiftly and into close quarters with your enemy before they can react." They started making their way to the entrance of the keep due to her needing to go back to the inn the company was staying in, "A lance relies on you never getting too close, in some ways the Gautier style is a counter measure for the Fraldarius one."

"How do you think about things like that?"

It's an odd question and has her turning her head to look at the boy, "What do you mean?"

"We're the same age, and I've been training to become a knight for two years now and I never thought of that."

"You're training to be a knight, I'm learning to keep myself alive." To her it makes sense without any explanation but the look of confusion she's sent says otherwise.

"You don't make any sense when you talk."

It's rather blunt and if she were anyone else Byleth thinks she'd be offended, but ever since she'd first met the Fraldarius heir he'd called her weird and made sure she knew she didn't make sense. It seems to be his way of saying she's difficult to understand but that its okay all the while.

Seeing as Glenn is the closest thing she has to a friend she's willing to deal with his backhanded acceptance. She wouldn't expect anything else from someone renowned for such a sharp tongue anyway.

"You're being taught to be honourable and to fight for glory," she doesn't hide her disdain thoughts of her father's mercenaries rising up, like Cain who was once a knight of the Adrestian Empire but was banished from his post after being the only one to survive a bandit attack - cast aside because he didn't die with 'glory' like his dead comrades, "I'm learning to fight dirty, to get through this day to the next. I'm supposed to think of how best to steal your blade. You're learning how best to slice my head off without having to see me as a person."

It's a morbid statement, one that she knows causes discomfort for the boy. It's clear as day in his eyes that he doesn't like the direction this conversation is taking.

Some small part of her wants to laugh, the idea of a knight not liking the true cruelty of his teachings. It'd be the same as expecting Byleth to never take a life when her living situation is the way it is.

"I... Byleth can I ask you a question-"

"Kid! Kid over here!" Snapping her head over to where the voice of Jaune is shouting for her she tilts her head as the scarred woman approaches, slightly out of breath, "Goddess kid, the whole company has been looking for you! Your Pa is still talking with the employer and you didn't come back- we got worried."

"I'm fine. I've been sparring."

Jaune laughs, bent over from all her running Byleth guesses, "Well I can see that _now_." Her jovial tune changes though and a rare serious light enters the mercenary's eyes, "One of the bandits thought they were clever threatening to take you, the boss dealt with them of course, but you didn't come back kid and we..."

"Oh."

"Yeah oh," the woman's hand ruffles her hair and she can only blink up at her as she does it, "Don't think I've run that much off the battlefield in years! Come on, say goodbye and we'll go home."

Nodding she turns to face Glenn who looks considerably more put out than he had when they'd been talking. The noble boy is half glaring at Jaune.

"You had a question, what was it?"

"Nothing, forget it. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Once more she nods and turns to follow after Jaune who for some reason makes a comment to Glenn about 'keeping his mits to himself' which she doesn't particularly understand.

-*-

When they make it back to the camp everyone seems to regain a few years of their lives when they spot her unharmed besides Jaune.

Byleth absently thinks that they worry far too much for a group of people who's occupation is killing, but she says nothing as she's passed from person to person for inspection.

"Where were you kid!? We looked everywhere for you! Even the castle staff got in on the search!"

"The kid was spending time with the mini lordling apparently, 'training' she says." Jaune is laughing as she says it but Byleth knows they're missing out on the joke.

"What were you training with?"

"Lance's." That sends half the troupe into an uproar of laughter while the other half start making jokes that she's promptly cut off from hearing by large familiar hands covering her ears.

Looking up she sees her father's face set in its usual tired grin as he watches the troupe try to quickly righten themselves into some semblance of respectability in front of their boss.

"Hey kiddo, you and the lordling were training then?"

She nods.

"Okay, if he tries to do anything else you kick his ass got it?"

"What else would we be doing?"

Her father laughs, running on of his hands down his face as the other settle son her shoulder rather than her head, "Doesn't matter, just promise alright?"

"Promise."

* * *

**Year 1170, Wyvern Moon**

**Fraldarius territory, Faerghus**

A moon later, Byleth learns why Glenn had been do adamant on being able to beat Miklan in a fight.

Felix had returned from Galatea territory alongside his friend Sylvain and Miklan, Sylvain's older brother. The older boy made something in her stomach turn; she knew she was one to talk about expressing herself but there was something intentional about the way Miklan held back his emotions.

She could see in his eyes that it wasn't an inability to express it was purposefully deception. She hated even more the way a darkness passed over his eyes when he looked at his brother.

"So who are you supposed to be?"

The older Gautier sounds disinterested as they sit side by side watching Glenn and Sylvain spar but the way his eyes are looking over her (evaluating if he can take her in a fight she muses) tell another story.

"I don't understand the question." She learns in that second that he's quick to anger because agitation flickers through his eyes at her bland tone.

"Are you slow or something?" She's been asked that before, enough to know he's insulting her intelligence and not her physical capabilities, "Why are you here? You're not a noble and you're too young to be a mistress so it doesn't make sense why you're here."

Miklan puts her on the defensive with just his entire existence but she supposes she can answer this question, it's nothing more than honest curiosity and this uneasy feeling is nothing more than anxiousness at being around so many new people at once.

That was normal wasn't it? Her father had said he wouldn't mind her pulling out of her daily routine at the Fraldarius castle if she felt uncomfortable. Not that she'd understood what there was that could have possibly made her uncomfortable.

Her father must have gotten the same feeling from Miklan as she did.

"My Pa," she stops herself before she announces his title, a hazy memory of being sworn to secrecy about his title outside of telling employers - something about the church tracking him down, "is the head of the company working for Lord Fraldarius, his lordship was kind enough to allow me to spend my days here as I'm not old enough for battle service yet."

The older boy scoffs, "Seriously? Next you're going to tell me you can read. Just come out and say you're a Fraldarius bastard child - it's obvious that's what you are."

Byleth isn't particularly sure what sparks an ember of rage in her at the accusation, after all she knows her father is as respectable as a mercenary can be and that no one is going to believe idle gossip from a teenager who isn't even recognized as the heir of his own house but _something_ drags the next few words from her.

"Unlike Lord Gautier, Lord Fraldarius is faithful to his wife."

It's not as if her words are false or mere accusations, on more than one occasion she's heard people in the company mock the Gautier Lord, saying how everybody feels sorry for the two legitimate sons as they'll have to vet every woman they come into contact with in the territory to make sure it isn't an illegitimate sister.

Apparently the Lord _really_ wanted multiple children with a crest and when his wife could only produce a singular crest heir and then only still borne afterwards he'd taken to mistress after mistress.

"You bitch!" She turns her attention to the older boy then, having not taken her eyes off the sparring duo the entire time they'd been conversing, and is greeted with a red in the face Miklan. "How dare you say that about my father!"

She wonders why he cares about his father, when Miklan has been cast aside for his younger brother (another common fact that was whispered in a drunken stupor in every tavern they'd stopped at as they'd passed through Gautier territory to reach Fraldarius castle), but thinks it may have to do with his own pride than any care towards his father.

Byleth can't relate.

"Am I wrong?"

The rage is bubbling up under his skin she can see, it's the first time he's been openly expressive and she can tell this just might be his default mood. Angry and uncaring about how much venom he spews.

He ignores her question as he rages, "You're just some stupid peasant bitch! How dare you talk to me like that!" He goes to push her off the bench they're sat on, but she's quicker and moves out of the way before he can.

His momentum sends him tumbling over the bench which only seems to rile him up more. He sits there stunned for a few seconds and she takes his confusion to back out of the immediate range of his punches- knowing enough about fights by now to know this will quickly develop into one.

"Miklan calm down, what's going on?""

Sylvain's voice is shaking as he calls out and the wordless snarl the boy sends towards the younger boy promptly shuts him up.

It stokes the fire building inside her; why did it only take an _expression_ to silence Sylvain? How many times had he seen that look before he learnt it was better to be silent than suffer the consequences?

"What's going on? By? Why are you two fighting?" Glenn steps up next to her, one hand gripping his lance while the other is resting on her shoulder.

After quickly glancing at Glenn she snaps her eyes back over to Miklan who's pulled himself to his feet finally and is shaking with rage once more. He points a finger at her like she's some accursed stain on a fancy family heirloom.

" _By_?! That's disgusting Fraldarius you've given a dog like her a pet name!? She's nothing but a cowardly bitch who needs to be taught her place."

"What's going on?" She notices that the Fraldarius heir has tightened his grip on his lance, "It isn't like you to just start a fight."

There's a meek scoff from behind her and she spares a look at Sylvain who looks sheepish once he's caught. She takes note that Felix is hiding behind the Gautier boy, a white knuckle grip on his training vest.

"She called my father a whore!"

"You accused me of being a bastard child of Lord Fraldarius," this might be the most emotion she's ever managed to pour into her voice, "And I pointed out that your entire territory knows your father has multiple mistresses."

This all feels extremely drawn out and she's just waiting for the fight to be issued so she can get it over with. It's almost time for the servants to call them for lunch - it would do no one any good for there to be tension in the dining hall that would get the adults involved.

They'd only complicate things, forcing apologies neither of them meant and would lead to one of them fostering a grudge that would only turn worse with age.

"Syl what are mistresses?"

"Doesn't matter Fe, let's just go okay?"

"Oh no you don't brat." Miklan snatches a lance from the rack next to him and points it just past her to where Sylvain and Felix are trembling, "If you won't say anything for fathers defence then you'll damn well watch as I teach this girl a lesson!"

"No one needs to fight-"

"It's fine." Glenn looks at her like she's suddenly started smiling brightly, "I don't need to beat him after all, I just need to not get beaten up."

She can see his noble teachings waring with the fact he knows she's right and facts seem to win out as he goes to hand her his lance but she shakes her head.

"Not going to fight me with a lance? What are you all bark and no bite mercenary girl!?" As she walks over to the weapons rack Miklan moves to the middle of the training ring.

Taking a few seconds she looks at the weapons available to her, the lance is immediately ruled out for the pure reason she isn't comfortable with the weapon and she won't be giving the Gautier boy any leverage if she can help it.

The sword is her go to, and her style is different enough than the Fraldarius one that the Gautier technique wouldn't immediately act as a counter measure, but the fight will require close quarters and all the Fraldarius swords are long swords, designed for quick slashes and jabs without ever getting too close.

She'd been experimenting with her dagger in a fight, but as of right now brining a real blade into the conflict would only serve to make things a thousand times worse.

A bow wouldn't work and she has a feeling Miklan would go ballistic of he thought she was trying to get out of fighting him properly by using the ranged weapon.

That left brawling gauntlets and the axe. 

Gauntlets offered little defence but that was more than the axe. Alternatively the axe gave her the speed and close range she needed, not to mention Jaune had showed her how to deflect a blade with the curve of an axe, it shouldn't be that different with an axe right?

She chooses the axe, lifting the training weapon in her hand and getting to grips with the weight of the weapon. She gives it a few swings before tuning to her opponent. His time waiting hasn't lessened his temper rather it seems to have shortened his fuse.

"A true Faerghun uses the same weapon as their opponent in a duel." It's meant to mess with her, a technique that people who needed to unnerve their opponents in order to win used.

"I'm not from Faerghus. I don't need to use a weapon that will make you feel better; if you're so assured of your victory a handicap should be unnecessary."

Perhaps it's wrong of her to refer to an old Faerghus custom as a handicap but she knows her monotony tends to rile people and her Father had drummed it into her head that when clouded by emotions even the most competent of fighters could fall to a novice.

Not that she wasn't capable of leaving devastating damage with the axe in her hand Sahar - one of the Alymran members of the company- had ensured she knew how best to wield the weapon in the way her homeland ensured all warriors did.

"A handicap!?" Miklan huffed a breath through his nose, forcing a mask of composure, "Whatever, get over here so I can put you in your place!"

That seemed to be something he liked saying she mused, shifting into position across from the older boy. They stood in silence for a few seconds before the thirteen year old let out a battle cry and aimed the blunted point of his lance not at her stomach but at her face.

It was then that she understood what her father had meant weeks prior, when he warned her to be careful if Glenn did anything other than training. This was not training, this was a real fight with blunted weapons that were being used as if to kill.

She had yet to break a promise, and she did not intend to start now.

-*-

Their fight got to the point where Fraldarius guards had to pull them apart, heavily armoured men stepping in between their fight to protect them from the other.

Despite the blunt lance and wooden axe both of them were bleeding and more than a little bruised. Byleth took a certain amount of joy from seeing Miklan's broken nose continue to sully his once pristine shirt with blood.

Perhaps she was the one allowing themselves to become clouded by anger? Or at the least by the tiny fragments of burning rage the hearth of her emotions could sustain.

"Let go of me! I'm not done yet!" 

While she had fallen limp in the soldiers grasp, a fact they seemed to be thankful for, Miklan had no such reservations and was kicking and fighting against the luckily armoured hold he was trapped in. Was it not for the arm guards the soldier was wearing she was sure their arms would be ribbons of torn flesh with the animalistic quality of the Gautier boys fighting.

"Honestly master Gautier calm yourself!" The use of his title rather than unadressed pleas seemed to finally reach the older boy and he was set on his feet.

Despite his apparent decision to no longer fight he still pointed his lance at her and gave her a scowl so unsightly she thought it a miracle no one physically cringed, "You'll regret what you've done! Don't think guards will stop me next time!"

And with that threat he'd dropped the lance and stormed out of the training hall, half a dozen guards stumbling after him, either to corral him to the infirmary or to ensure he didn't take his anger out on some poor unfortunate staff member she wasn't sure.

Once he left the other guards turned to her, an uneasy look in their eyes she assigned in response to her unreadable expression.

"What was that about Eisner?" It sounds less like the accusation she was expecting. After all, she's the commoner here shouldn't the blame be being pushed onto her without an ounce of hesitation? "In the two and a half moons you've been here you haven't provoked anyone once, I find it hard to believe someone with your countenance started the fight."

Her countenance? That was almost laughable, more than once her blank face had incited accusations of various kinds from a pack of compassion to begging for a fight because of a lack of outward emotion in regards to certain situations.

In fact she can remember perfectly an incident the year prior in Empire territory where a village girl had yanked on her hair because she'd refused to laugh at her joke.

Perhaps not the same thing, but it proved that her countenance was excuse enough for some people.

"We got into a disagreement and decided to settle it with a duel, I forgot that I was fighting against someone with noble training and I fought dirty." It was easier to shove the blame on her, it caused less questions and would only lead to a chiding to her father before the whole incident would be forgotten about.

The only long term consequence would be a blow to Miklan's pride but he would push past it, the savage patchwork pride that he'd used to shield himself had told her that.

The knight didn't look convinced but sighed in the way all adults did when they knew it was a losing battle to get her to change her story. This man wasn't her father he didn't know how to tell she was lying by the way she apparently blinked slower or the way her words were spoken a fraction of a second quicker.

"By that isn't what happened!" She tried to discretely glare at Glenn to shut him up.

"That isn't true!"

Sylvain, for the way his voice had shaken when he'd spoken to his brother, for the way he'd trembled and silenced himself from a look alone had a strong conviction to the way he spoke, "Miklan tried to take her eye out with the lance! That's why they were fighting so hard! He was trying to really hurt her!"

There was such a big conflict between their stories that she knew it would take a miracle for this to not to be made into a big issue. Knowing this she attempted to sway the knight to her story over the truth, "I insulted him due to heightened emotions, it makes sense he would go for the head to shut me up."

"But he called you a bitch before you even started fighting!"

The youngest Fraldarius' voice calling out the curse made her tense slightly and the shock that crossed the knights face said she'd lost the bout to turn him to her side.

After all, if all three witnesses were saying the same thing, mixed with Miklan's threat to finish what he started she supposed she never had a chance of winning

-*-

Shortly after the knight decided to believe the lordlings over her she was promptly escorted to the infirmary to be promptly sat down and worried over by two elderly healers who looked half haggard already.

Milkan had clearly passed through already.

The knight was quick to leave her and the lordlings with the healers in the infirmary, some half formed excuse of reporting the incident to Lord Rodrigue falling off his lips before he was even out the room. Not that she cared much for him staying.

She didn't need emotional support but it would possibly of been preferable had he stayed so that she didn't need to deal with Glenn say next to her worrying over every bruise he could now properly see whole Sylvain and Felix stared at her with wide confused eyes.

"So you're the one who fought with the Gautier boy hmm?" She mutely nodded as the woman of the pair tilted her head side to side with methodically hands, "Surface level at least I think this is really what you call a 'You should see the other man' situation."

"Do you have any injuries elsewhere dear?" The other healer comes back into view, a small basin in his hands with a clean cloth is draped over his arm. Despite his stick-like arms he doesn't seem to have an issue carrying the heavy load, "You left quite the mark on the Gautier boys back I must say, it isn't a stretch to imagine you have similar injuries."

True enough, the point where Miklan's fist had made contact with her stomach is aching even now, not to mention the back of her left knee where the blunt end of the lance had been driven left her feeling uneasy.

"Perhaps."

It's a lacklustre response at best, but the healers take it in stride, the man starts to usher out her companions and the woman starts to separate off her cot with a curtain.

"Hey what are you doing!?" Felix sounds near distraught at the prospect of leaving her in the infirmary. Glenn _had_ said his brother could be a cry baby at times.

"Now, now master Felix. It is unbecoming of a man to see another woman bare when he is not her husband."

The shrieks of embarrassment the statement rips from the three boys as they scurry from the room is enough to have her huff in amusement.

-*-

It turned out picking a fight with a Fearghun noble wasn't as likely to lead to retribution as she'd thought it would. In fact, somehow, out of everyone in Rodrigue's office she and Miklan seem to be the only ones confused as to why they aren't receiving punishment.

Considering its only her, Miklan and Rodrigue the the private office it's highly concerning.

"Due to neither of you disclosing your reasons for you fight I've come to the conclusion it was a childish reason, am I wrong?" The lord looks between the two of then and she's glad for her blank face, "Whatever you tell me does not leave this office. If the reason is embarrassing I will not judge."

They're still children, that she understands, but to be treated like this makes her aggravated. There are plenty of reasons they have chosen to not disclose the reason for their altercation.

Number one on her list is that she won't be the one to sour relations between Fraldarius and Gautier territories. She has an inclination that Miklan is remaining silent because he doesn't want to be punished for causing that.

Embers of her anger are still floating around in the cavity of her chest, but her curiosity burns brighter; curiosity as to why Miklan isn't the official heir, curiosity as to what caused him to be the way he is with Sylvain, curiosity as to how she'd get away with getting revenge for the younger Gautier.

Her face, an empty slate, doesn't betray the whirlwind of questions begging to be answered.

"Well?"

The silence hangs in the room, brittle like the slightest breath will shatter it, and neither of them dare disturb it.

"Honestly," Rodrigue sighs, shaking his head before looking at them with a look bordering on amusement, "Children these days. Please I implore you to settle your petty disagreements with words rather than weaponry next time."

Seeing as the Lord before her fills his sons heads with tales and commands to be unwavering knights who unquestionably follow their liege she doesn't believe he has any right to tell her to solve confrontations with her words. Not that she'd dare say that to his face.

Glenn's soured moods told her enough about the general reception Faerghun nobility had to her way of thinking.

"We shall leave this incident here then shall we? If the two of you part here amicably then we won't need to reference it again." They're forced to shake hands, and the two of them squeeze with all their might and she isn't sure whether the tinge of pain comes from Miklan trying to rip her hand from her wrist or from her trying to break the bones in his hand, "The two of you are dismissed."

She nods and leaves the room with long deliberate strides attempting to get as far away as she can as quickly as she can.

If she has to hold her tongue any longer she'll bite right through it.

Faerghun nobility seem to be of the mindset 'do as I say, not as I do', and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. It irritates her that its still too early for her father or for the company in any capacity to be arriving back at the castle.

That means she has to deal with the lordlings some more and the knights and staff giving her a wider berth than usual. She's already heard a maid mutter about how a savage like herself shouldn't be allowed near nobility- especially not impressionable children like the little lordlings.

Her words hold no wait, especially as she'd seen that specific maid trying to convince one of the company into a dark corner with her.

It seems the Lord's mindset also extended to his staff.

-*-

"Kid what the hell is wrong with your knee!?" Looking up from where she's tugging on the brace she's met with the sight of half the company staring down at her.

She'd been so entranced in finding a comfortable way to fold the fabric that she hadn't even noticed the increase in volume. She surveys the group and its the 'inner circle' of the company, the ones that have been there the longest and the ones she is willing to consider immediate family.

"Got hurt sparring, healer said I need the brace for a while."

It's concise and leaves no room for argument. It should send then scurrying off to the rest of the company but instead they come closer to where she's sat in the open market in front of the Fraldarius castle.

Looking down she decides they should surely get bored if she ignores them. These people know her well enough to know when to leave her alone.

"How to hell did the lordling brat get away with a blow like that!? You're not training with lances-"

The abrupt halt of Sahar's words have her looking up at the woman. Her face is set in a scowl, "It was the Gautier brat wasn't it. Damn it I knew the rumours of him being unnecessarily violent were too frequent to not be true."

"It's fine. It will heal."

"Byleth," it's her full name that grabs her attention and she hates the sympathy in Sahar's mismatched eyes, "Knee injuries can sometimes be permanent. If it doesn't heal right you might not be able to fight properly."

Something clicks into place then, the worried borderline horrified look Glenn had sent her knee, the sympathetic coos the healers had sent her, the way Rodrigue has avoided eye contact.

They knew. They knew this may-

"Oh."

"Is there any particular reason you're all crowding around my kid?"

"Captain I want you to promise me you won't kill any of the lordlings."

"Mowi what the hell is that supposed to mean- kid what the fuck happened to your knee!?"


End file.
